


Desperation

by xdluhman (deirdrepaterson)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Body Swap, Gen, M/M, Multi, Xenopolycythemia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdrepaterson/pseuds/xdluhman
Summary: For the McSpirk Holiday Fest 2017, Round 3:Prompt from anonymous:Xenopolycythemia-stricken Mirror!Bones tries to steal his counterpart's healthy body.





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> Geez this is a mess, and I certainly did not reread it for coherency, so please let me know if there are any major or minor errors that I should correct.

_It's time to do something drastic._

This was the thought that ran through the mind of one Leonard Horatio McCoy as he sat on his bed, propped up on a mass of pillows so he could breathe. The symptoms of xenopolycythemia had been getting progressively worse over the last few months.

It had been nearly a year since he discovered he had the incurable, terminal illness. In that time, he had dedicated all of his spare time to developing a cure, which would have the added benefit of being an additional bargaining chip. But for all his hard work and blackmail and resource siphoning, he had gotten nothing. No cure, no clues, and only a little extension in the form of forced blood transfusions from compatible crew members. The disease had progressed to its final stages, and he had a few weeks at most to come up with a solution or perish.

He'd had more than enough time to come up with a single, last-ditch idea. The problem was that he needed a few key people to help without stabbing him in the back, and he unfortunately didn't possess any blackmail on them. He could pull rank and threaten to use the agonizers on the transporter techs, but he also needed a decent engineer and someone to analyze the data from the original incidents…

\------

It took him almost half a day to wrangle all the people he needed. As predicted, the transporter techs came along with a little threat of agonizer use. There was a mid-rank scientist who owed him for not ending their life after an attempt on Commander Spock's life, and Commander Scott was surprisingly easy to persuade with the offer of all of McCoy's stash of alcohol and narcotics.

Leonard locked them in the appropriate transporter room and attempted to look as menacing as possible while leaning heavily on a bulkhead next to the door. It took them nearly sixteen hours to come up with a potential method, not least because Scott had tried to kill one of the techs (who evidently had been part of a plot on the chief engineer's life a few months back), and they warned that it might not work, but McCoy was willing to take anything over living in this failing body.

At his last calculation, he had a maximum of two weeks before his blood became too thick for his heart to pump. With any luck, in a matter of moments, he would be in a healthy body, while his goody-two-shoes counterpart would be trapped in a vessel with a clear expiration date.

He stepped onto the transporter platform. "Energize."

\------

The first thing he noticed was that he was lying down and could actually breathe. The second thing he realized was he was in a bed and there was someone next to him. Perhaps his counterpart wasn't quite as stuffy as he'd thought.

He shifted in the bed and tried to get a look at whoever was next to him. The profile suggested that the person next to him was male, a bit stocky, and…the captain. He was in bed with James Tiberius Kirk.

That was…different. In his universe, coming within five feet of the captain without specific medical cause would practically get him killed. And here was his counterpart, in bed with said captain, comfortable and asleep.

Fuck.

Obviously, some part of him didn't expect to make it this far because he hadn't considered how to handle being in such a radically different universe. This Enterprise was aware of his universe, and they'd quickly have suspicions if their CMO's behavior suddenly changed. But McCoy frankly had no idea what it was that a doctor on this ship would do.

Maybe the computer would be of assistance? He sat up and made to stand, when an arm wrapped around his waist. It took every ounce of his willpower to not attack in response.

"Bones, sweetheart, wh'r're you goin'?" came the familiar-unfamiliar voice of Kirk.

"Uh…" Fuck, fuck, fuck, what would make sense? "I just need to go to the head, go back to sleep."

Kirk hummed quietly before turning over to face the bulkhead. "Mmkay, come back soon…"

McCoy stood up and quickly took stock of this body's condition. Everything was good, except for the fact that he was completely naked and in possession of no weapons. He waited until Kirk's breathing evened out, shallow and steady, before moving around the divider to the computer. Thankfully the technology was identical to that in his old universe, so it was easy to make sure all sound was muted before he went searching.

Medical chain of command seemed to be the best place to start. He knew chain of command was radically different, and certainly not based on killing one's superiors.

…Actually, the general chain of command was fairly similar. The CMO was in charge, but expected to take advice from the other doctors and nurses into consideration. The doctors were subordinate to the CMO, and the nurses subordinate to the doctors. The primary difference was that advancement was by merit rather than by murder. That would actually be of benefit to him, since he wouldn't have to watch his back quite as much.

But what was he expected to do, exactly? Back in his home universe, he typically provided just enough treatment for someone to get back to work, unless he was appropriately bribed. Something told him this wasn't how things worked in this universe.

Back in medical school there had been a brief discussion of the history of medicine up to the 1900s, at which point policies changed to be similar to what he'd been used to. There had been an ethical code or something, originally proposed by some ancient man…Hippopotamus? Hypotenuse? Hypocrite? Hippocrates! The Hippocratic Oath, that's what it was called. It had been abandoned when doctors realized their research was stymied by it and that they could extort more money or goods from patients by withholding the full treatment.

A quick search and a clarification that he wasn't looking for the ancient version and there it was.

The Hippocratic Oath:

I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:

I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.

I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures [that] are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.

I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.

I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.

I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.

I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.

I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.

I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.

If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.

\-------

Well fuck.

How in the hell was he expected to show "warmth, sympathy, and understanding" when he had no real concept of those?

Search: lack of sympathy and understanding

Search: disconnect from "normal" emotions

Search: sociopathy

Great. The only way he was going to be able to act like the "real" McCoy would be to understand how others expected him to behave. Should he attempt to call in sick? Try to observe how the other doctors behaved? But what about specific interpersonal relations, like the ones he obviously had with the captain here?

He did his best to clear the search history and returned to the bed. He lay there contemplating for a while before he concluded that the best thing to do would be to wing it and hope he didn't fuck up right away.

\-------

Leonard Horatio McCoy, former CMO of the I.S.S. Enterprise, awoke to the godawful sound of a red alert.

Then came the feeling of a whole person's weight being shifted on top of him. Was this an assassination attempt? He grabbed blindly at the person and made to wrestle them onto the floor. He had his knee positioned to hit their crotch when the body spoke.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bones, what the hell's gotten into you? It's me--"

"--James. Yeah, sorry, I was just startled by the, uh, red alert. I thought maybe someone had broken into my cabin." He made a concerted effort to roll off of the captain before getting up.

Kirk looked at him strangely but shrugged after getting up and made for the dresser drawers. Luckily McCoy didn't have to pretend he knew where his clothes were because Kirk started throwing the appropriate pieces of apparel at him. They both dressed quickly and headed for the bridge. McCoy made a mental note that he apparently did not carry any weapons under normal circumstances and linked his hands behind his back once he was standing on the bridge. Hopefully that would keep him from reaching for weapons that weren't there.

Kirk made straight for the science station, where a version of Commander Spock, sans goatee, stood waiting. "Mr. Spock, status report."

Spock looked McCoy right in the eye for a single second before shifting his gaze to the captain. "The last shift's active scientist and engineer both observed anomalies in shipboard sensors. They initially presumed the cause was a simple error or power surge, but Commander Scott and I examined the logs ourselves and believe that the anomalies correspond to some form of transporter technology. We likely have an intruder on board."

McCoy's blood ran cold. Spock turned to look at him again, and he had a sudden awareness of another presence in his mind.

Fuck. The bastard he'd switched with was fucking bonded to the fucking Vulcan first officer. He knew. There was no way in hell he didn't know that this McCoy was not theirs.

He bolted for the turbolift in vain, as Spock was both taller and faster than he was and quickly apprehended him. McCoy found himself pressed solidly against the bulkhead next to the turbolift doors by Spock's forearm.

Kirk looked on in confusion. "Spock, what are you--?" A look of understanding dawned in his eyes. "He's the imposter. No wonder he tried to attack me when we got up. So who is he really?"

"Leonard's counterpart from the universe in which there was 'an overabundance of glitter and knives', as you said, Jim," Spock said.

Kirk's face hardened. "Are we able to send him back?"

Spock nodded. "Commander Scott and myself wrote a transporter program for this exact kind of situation shortly after the initial event. Our Leonard will be returned to us shortly. Lieutenant Uhura, please cancel the red alert."

Uhura smiled, decidedly less sinister than the woman McCoy had known. "Of course, Mr. Spock."

Then McCoy was manhandled into the turbolift and taken down to the transporter room.

\------

The first thing he noticed was the sensation of being unable to breathe. The next thing he noticed was that he was in his office, with a PADD filled with unusual notes in front of him. Once he managed to breathe decently well, he examined the notes and determined that his counterpart had been trying to duplicate some formula that was intended to cure xenopolycythemia.

Perhaps he could put the missing pieces into place in time. And even if he couldn't, surely there were other universes out there to try...

**Author's Note:**

> Hippocratic oath text from https://owlspace-ccm.rice.edu/access/content/user/ecy1/Nazi%20Human%20Experimentation/Pages/Hippocratic%20Oath-modern.html


End file.
